


Anything You Want

by eggnogged



Category: Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-15
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggnogged/pseuds/eggnogged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An evening on the 2006 live tour, told in drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything You Want

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to J for looking it over for me. <3 Any mistakes are mine.

1.  
  
  
He's got the mirror ball suit peeled half-way down his body, with the sleeves tied loosely around his waist, and the smudged makeup all over his face would be enough to make him look like a maniac even without the mad glint in his eyes. He's on another plane, drugged on the adulation of thousands of fans, high on adrenaline and champagne. He buffets across the dressing room, unsteady on his heels, and just looking at him makes Julian feel more exhausted, like Noel is sucking away all of his remaining energy from across the room.  
  
Julian lets his eyes drift shut.  
  
When he jerks back to consciousness, the handful of people that were in the room are gone and Noel is looming over him, his face too close. The red makeup around his mouth makes his grin look impossibly, unnaturally huge. A shark in lipstick.  
  
"You coming?" he says in that annoyingly high-pitched sing-song voice.  
  
"Where?" Julian mutters, frowning in confusion. His mind feels slow like cold molasses and the inside of his mouth feels like cotton wool.  
  
"After party!" Noel says with too much energy, pressing his sticky, greasy lips against Julian's jaw before he can say "don't".  
  
  
2.  
  
  
Multicoloured beams of light are dancing across the room, floating down to paint the upturned faces and swaying arms in red, yellow and blue. They're all staring in the same direction with religious fervour, at the man dancing on top of a tall speaker, who is feeding off of their energy like plants feed off of the sun. He's cleaned his face and pulled on a t-shirt, but he's still wearing that fucking mirror ball suit.  
  
Julian is watching him, too - it's difficult not to. Noel tosses his head back and throws his arms up, a completely unselfconscious gesture that sends a roar rippling through the crowd even above music thumping through the speakers.  
  
"I feel like one of the apostles," Julian says, but Dave doesn't hear him over the music.  
  
"What?"  
  
Julian shrugs, doesn't repeat it. Instead, he shouts, "He's played at being Jesus for long enough. Time for a Howard song."  
  
Dave laugh and nods, and a couple of seconds later, Joan Jett fades into Weather Report. Noel stops dancing and looks down to the DJ booth, slowly shaking his head with his hands on his hips. He's smiling, though, and the crowd eats it all up.  
  
  
3.  
  
  
"Found you!" Noel shouts in his ear half an hour later, and Julian doesn't bother reminding him that he's been standing in the same corner ever since he got there.  
  
"I'm off. Knackered."  
  
Noel nods, reaching up to trace the dark circle under Julian's left eye with the pad of his thumb.  
  
"Don't get lost on the way there."  
  
"I'll leave a trail of bread crumbs."  
  
"Better make it wine gums."  
  
"That might send the wrong message."  
  
Noel's laugh is drowned out by the music, and he starts to say something else but then Rich barrels into their little circle with a high-pitched squeal and they break apart, laughing.  
  
Julian waves his goodbyes and makes a quick exit through the back door. A handful of fans catch up with him just as he's about to hail a taxi, and it takes all of his remaining willpower to plaster a smile on his face and pose for a few photographs.  
  
The air conditioning in the car hits his flushed skin and goosebumps ripple across his arms, making him shiver. The journey to the hotel is blissfully silent and dark after the chaos of the club.  
  
He feels a thousand years old.  
  
  
4.  
  
  
It feels like he's been asleep for five minutes when he's awoken by insistent knocking on his door. He ignores it for a while, until he has to accept that Noel - who else? - isn't going to go away.  
  
"What is it?" Julian mutters, equal parts groggy and exasperated when he opens the door.  
  
"You didn't leave any bread crumbs." He pauses, and has the decency to look apologetic when he realizes he's probably woken Julian. "Were you sleeping? Shit. I'm sorry. What time is it?"  
  
"It's fucking four in the morning, Noel. You have your own room."  
  
"Lost the key. No pockets." He smiles tentatively, patting the sides of his sequined trousers.  
  
Julian thinks about telling him to go down to the front desk, but he takes another look at Noel, who looks as tired as Julian feels under the harsh lights of the hallway. He lets out a long-suffering sigh, just for show, and steps back to let Noel in.  
  
Julian crawls back in bed without another backward glance even though he doubts he'll find sleep again anytime soon. In the background, he hears the sound of the shower starting. Julian sighs, sits up, and turns the television on.  
  
  
5.  
  
  
After the shower, he looks disconcertingly normal. With everything stripped away, he's like Clark Kent, a superhero in everyday clothes.  
  
Julian watches him towel his hair from where he's reclined against the headboard. When Noel glances up and catches Julian looking, he smiles. The spark's back, just like that, and maybe that's his super power. He doesn't need the outfits, the makeup or the hair, all he needs is that smile to rule the world.  
  
Julian finds himself smiling in return, too drowsy to fight back a sudden surge of affection that obliterates any lingering annoyance.  
  
"You're not Clark Kent."  
  
Noel's laugh is sharp like glass. "Thank god. He's a square."  
  
"Come here."  
  
Noel abandons his towel and crawls up the bed on hands and knees until he's straddling Julian's lap. Julian leans up, Noel tips his head forward, his damp hair falling on each side of his face and their lips meet in a slow kiss. Noel tastes of toothpaste.  
  
"You used my toothbrush. You're disgusting."  
  
Noel grins, unapologetic, and runs his tongue over Julian's lower lip before resuming the kiss, soft, pliant, unhurried.  
  
"Sorry I woke you up."  
  
"It's fine," Julian says, and finds that it's the truth.


End file.
